


Fine Lines

by lsforever



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: & no its not a sex gift, (i imagined him as a robotics engineer or smthg cool like that), 1D Christmas Fest, Alternate Universe, Christmas, Christmas Fluff, Christmas Morning, Clumsy Harry, Established Relationship, Explicit Sexual Content, Florist Harry, Fluff, Frottage, Hand Jobs, M/M, Married Couple, Mentioned Jay Tomlinson, Mentioned Robin Twist, Mpreg, Rutting, Smut, TOO MUCH, harry gives louis the best xmas gift ever, louis profession isnt specified
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-25
Updated: 2020-12-25
Packaged: 2021-03-10 21:54:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,606
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28154190
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lsforever/pseuds/lsforever
Summary: The short story is there are two little, white sticks sitting on the bathroom counter with two little, pink lines on both of them. The long story is thatthat’snever happened before.or, Harry gets the surprise of a lifetime and decides it’ll be the perfect Christmas present.
Relationships: Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson
Comments: 18
Kudos: 175
Collections: 1D Christmas Fest 2020





	Fine Lines

**Author's Note:**

  * For [TheIfInLife](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheIfInLife/gifts).



> Working Title: you live in my imagination (from Olivia) but bonnie had to go and say some cheesy shit and now look what we're stuck with kqjwekj
> 
> Hello, yes I am actually posting again! It's been 3 years and yes I've missed this a lot. <3 Thank you [Chloe](https://chloehl10.tumblr.com/) for putting this fest together and letting me enter so late. Also, shout outs to those from Tumblr who sent me inspo and helped me choose a baby name. You guys are the best. :)
> 
> Biggest Thank You to the best sister/beta/person [Bonnie](https://larryficwriter.tumblr.com/). This wouldn't exist if not for us convincing each other to sign up and then forcing each other to actually write. This is a temporary gift to you until I actually get my shit together and write something specifically for you.<3
> 
> Notes: Jay and Robin are both in this Universe but they're only mentioned, so take caution. Also, I don't really explain it but I wrote this with the image that in this universe it's either required or just societal norm for everybody to be on birth control (not just women, as it should be irl!)
> 
> You can find me on [Tumblr](https://harrystinysantashorts.tumblr.com/) and reblog the [Fic Post](https://harrystinysantashorts.tumblr.com/post/637718315951931392/coming-soon-fine-lines-by-lsforever) as well if you'd like. Hope you enjoy and Happy Holidays! x

**December**

“Fuck.”

The nausea hits Harry like a brick wall, full-forced and steady, unlike the random waves he’s been feeling all day, and he’s sick of it. Literally. He’s already been sick enough to last him a lifetime plus some, and it’s quite rude that his body thinks it can just go back and forth between feeling okay and throwing up.

Which apparently it _can_ now, and - “Oh _fuck_.” He just barely grabs the sick bucket in time for what’s probably the fourth round today. Dusty is sitting by his feet, softly meowing at Harry, ever the protective cat parent. Clifford is laying in the hallway right outside the doorway, eyes also on Harry.

The short story is there are two little, white sticks sitting on the bathroom counter with two, little pink lines on both of them.

The long story is that _that’s_ never happened before. It’s so hard to believe too, considering every single pregnancy test Harry’s ever taken has come out negative. Since they first started trying a year and a half ago, Louis and Harry have long lost hope in conceiving, their chances already slim as it is. They knew from the beginning that their chances were low, and had even considered talking to Harry’s doctor about fertility medication, only to decide against it after hearing the side effects they could cause.

After they decided Harry would come off of birth control and to stop using condoms, Harry made it a point to take pregnancy tests every week, more excited than anything to finally start trying for a baby with his partner. Louis had been on board too, stopping by the pharmacy after work every so often to grab a few more boxes of tests just in case, as well as forbidding any alcohol in the house. Louis still had beer or wine at the occasional outing they’d make with their friends or to home, but Harry, having never been much of a drinker in the first place, swore it off altogether.

It must’ve been at least a few months after they started trying that Harry started losing hope. The tests never came back positive, which really took a toll on Harry’s sex drive. He felt as though it wasn’t worth trying anymore, felt like his body was just _too_ messed up and they’d never be successful, and it got to the point where Harry just didn’t feel like he cared anymore.

That was still last year though, and although Harry’s long overcome feeling like a failure, he’s still never fully believed that he could actually be pregnant. It just wasn’t possible, or so he thought.

But now, with those two _positive_ tests sitting so innocently on the counter, Harry isn’t sure what he’s going to do.

There’s only so many times one can get a stomach bug a month without it being at least a little concerning. These past few weeks of the on-again, off-again sickness, more intense headaches, and irritability that’s been dragging Harry through the mud makes a lot more sense though, and for once since Louis suggested they at least test monthly Harry is glad for it.

This also raises more concerns for Harry. He’s finally starting to get the hang of the floral designer management position he was promoted to in November, and he’ll feel terrible when he finally tells the owners of the shop, Leigh-Anne and Perrie, that they’ll need to coordinate for his paternity leave. Meanwhile Louis’ been working more hours at the lab (he’s currently working his fourth Saturday in a row) so they can have extra spending money for the trip to California they _were_ planning for Harry’s birthday in February, although they’ll most likely need to cancel that now.

There’s also the issue of telling Louis. Not that it’s an issue, but Harry’s just so overwhelmed with emotions and thoughts right now that he doesn’t know how to even go about it. Sure, he could hand him the tests as soon as he gets home from work and they can celebrate for the few short minutes they’ll have alone before they’ll have to leave for the dinner planned at Harry’s mom’s house.

But that would suck, honestly, being able to celebrate for only a few minutes before having to ignore it for the whole night. They both deserve to focus their undivided attention on each other and the situation at hand.

So Harry’s going to have to keep quiet about this at the very least until tomorrow. Which might prove difficult considering Louis has only forgotten to ask Harry about the test results once that he can remember, and he is also a personal Harry lie detector. If Louis asks him, there’s no way Harry will be able to keep this from him. His only hope is if Louis magically forgets.

By the time Harry’s gotten over this bout of sickness and feels well enough to get up, he’s only got an estimated 10 minutes or so before Louis is due home. He scrambles to make sure there’s no evidence of him being sick, turning on the wax melter in the bathroom and stuffing his sweaty clothes to the bottom of the hamper, then jumping in the shower so his hair isn’t greasy at dinner tonight.

The tests are tucked neatly away behind his old camera bag in the guest bedroom closet, top shelf. Louis rarely goes in there, so Harry’s hoping he can just play it off as having forgotten to take the test and will be safe until he decides how to share the news.

Even under the spray of hot water, Harry can hear Louis kicking the front door closed behind himself, an old habit that Harry has tried to get him to break, and he has to take a few deep breaths to calm his nerves and force away the sudden nausea.

 _Fuck_. Just this morning Harry was stationed on the back patio with a soft blanket and his laptop, sipping iced coffee while he scrolled through Pinterest and Tumblr for inspiration on the new centrepieces he and Perrie are wanting to design for a wedding that they’re working for. He had no idea that hours later he’d have to come to terms with the fact that he’s actually expecting.

A small tear leaks from the corner of his eye right when the bathroom door creaks open. “Hey love,” Louis greets, and Harry almost chokes.

He has to silently take another deep breath and focus on having an even tone, responding with, “Hi. How was work?” He shuts the water off and steps out, slipping his robe on before Louis can look over at him, unable to hide his grin when they make eye contact. Louis is absolutely gorgeous, blue eyes always so loving and caring, soft hair pointing in every direction, and the light dusting of beard that Harry is glad he hasn’t shaved. Harry feels a little breathless every time he looks at his husband.

“It was alright,” Louis responds, stepping aside to share the mirror with Harry as they both start messing with their hair. “Boring as ever. Liam’s still got us repairing for the previous company we installed for and it’s boring as fuck. I was ready to leave at 9.”

Harry snorts. “You got there at 8,” he deadpans, amused by Louis’ dramatics, but not at all surprised. Work has really been dragging on Louis a bit lately, the main reason they decided to take a short vacation in the first place. Harry internally winces when he remembers they’ll have to call it off.

“Exactly. When do we have to leave?” Louis changes the subject, and Harry can’t help but stare a little in the mirror as Louis quickly strips off his work clothes and then reapplies more deodorant. Even through the fog of nerves eating at him, Harry will always take time to appreciate Louis in moments like these.

After Louis raises an amused eyebrow at him, lips tilted up in a barely-there smirk, Harry decides he should finish getting ready so they won’t be late. Louis steps out into the hallway as Harry answers, “In about fifteen minutes I believe. It’s Saturday so traffic’s gonna suck. Will you grab something comfy for me to wear?”

He doesn’t hear Louis’ reply but trusts him all the same.

They make it out of the driveway in thirteen minutes, Louis not saying a word about any tests that Harry should’ve taken.

-

“Hey, shitheads.” Gemma’s usual greeting is very welcome, Harry trapping her in a much-needed hug. It’s been a little over two months since he’s seen her. With Christmas just two days away and the busy holiday season almost doubling their business at the shop, Gemma’s been unable to attend family dinner, always getting stuck at work over the weekends.

“Hey shithead,” he says in return. Louis hugs her next, and Harry takes the opportunity of them being distracted to run to the kitchen, unable to hold back a sigh of relief when he sees only Anne in there.

He has to be quick and discreet about this, lest Gemma and Louis walk in on him trying - and failing - to coerce Anne into sneaking to the store with him. He _has_ to talk to someone about It, or he’ll positively explode, and he definitely didn’t get his lying skills from his mother, who can cheekily convince anyone of anything.

Sliding up next to her in front of the stove, Harry wraps his arms around her shoulders and whispers, “Need to talk ASAP. Can you cover for me?”

“Harry!” Gemma and Louis both walk in then as Anne pulls Harry in for a tight hug. When she pulls away, her features are schooled as ever, not even a smug glint in her eyes or anything. Harry admires her so much. She then demands a hug from Louis, saying, “Missed you both so much.”

Harry takes over at the stove, basting the ham that Anne was working on. He’s still got his coat and boots on and feels his forehead start to prickle with sweat from the proximity to the warm oven, hoping his decision to keep his outerwear on won’t be too obvious to the others. Once he’s deemed the ham and other vegetables basted enough, he carefully slides the pan back into the oven. Rolls are sitting on the counter that have probably been rising for a few hours and a pot of mashed potatoes on the stove as well.

They’ve decided to spend Christmas day at home this year, so tonight they’ll exchange gifts with Harry’s family and tomorrow, Louis’ birthday, will be spent at Louis’ Family’s home. And even though Harry spent most of today feeling beyond sick, his stomach still rumbles a bit at the smell and sight of his mother’s traditional Christmas dinner. Her rolls are to die for.

Once the oven is closed, Harry is glad to round the island to be further away from the warmer part of the kitchen. He zones into the conversation just as he hears Anne say, “You should really take a weekend off soon,” to Louis, a hand still resting on his shoulder, concern etched on her face.

Louis is smiling at her, and not for the first time Harry is thankful for how wonderfully Louis fit in with his family. Growing up he’d always been concerned to bring anybody home, Anne and Gemma both protective and a little intimidating, but from the beginning, Louis has never wavered and managed to charm their socks off and keep them on his side. He answers, “I believe I have next weekend off. I only agreed to work today so I could have the day after Christmas off.”

“Good. You work too hard sometimes. Now.” Anne claps her hands together, pulls off her apron, and then points at Gemma. “Would you mind popping the rolls into the oven in about twenty minutes? I forgot to grab some wine at the store yesterday and would like to go get some while dinner is still cooking.”

Damn, Harry really doesn’t know what he’d do without Anne. She hasn’t even spared a glance in his direction since she started talking to Louis; he was nervous that she maybe didn’t actually hear him, and yet she _still_ manages to slip in an excuse for them to slip away for a few minutes.

Gemma agrees easily, not suspecting a thing, requesting she pick up a bottle of her favourite Moscato. Louis declines Anne’s offer to grab him any special drink as well, claiming he’s fine with whatever she chooses, and she responds with the kindest smile. “If you’re sure then. Come along Harry, you can help me choose.”

Harry watches Louis and Gemma see if they react to Anne’s statement, and when they don’t seem to react besides agreeing to watch the food and inform Robin of their whereabouts when he comes downstairs, Harry feels a small weight lift from his shoulders. He blows a kiss to both of them and follows Anne silently while she grabs her purse and coat, and then out to the car. She only puts up a small fight when he offers to drive, giving in after he says, “You’ve been cooking all day. You deserve to relax a bit.”

His nerves are bubbling up inside of him again, breathing feeling the slightest bit harder. To his relief, Anne seems content with only asking him about work on the short drive to the local grocery store. He only has five minutes of talking about what he’s been working on at the shop recently before they’re pulling into a parking spot right outside the store.

Anne doesn’t ask any more questions. It’s just them now, and her face is completely open, eyebrows furrowed and mouth drawn down in concern. She doesn’t say anything at all, though her hand rests on Harry’s soothingly, and Harry knows she’s waiting for him to spill.

He hadn’t really thought this far ahead, and before he lets himself sit in nervous silence trying to think of the “right” way to it, he forces himself to blurt, “I’m pregnant,” in the silent space of the car.

Actually saying it out loud is a huge relief as well. His stomach isn’t fluttery and his head doesn’t hurt as much from the whirlwind of thoughts that’s been ransacking it all day. It feels nice not being the only one who knows.

Sparing a glance at his mom, Harry is met with a very expected sight. Anne’s mouth is partially hanging open, her eyes brimmed with tears, and hand over her chest. Harry can feel his own eyes prickling with tears in response. Anne has joked with both him and Gemma since they were teenagers about them growing up and eventually making her dream of being able to spoil grandchildren true. He knows she must feel as overwhelmed with joy as he does, and the need to close the space between them for a hug grows.

She must be thinking the same thing because she finally responds, “Oh Harry,” falling from her mouth while she scoops him into her arms. Her shoulders shake a bit with the short sob/laugh she lets out, and Harry laughs right along with her.

Snow has started to lightly fall again from the dark sky, the faint sound of Holiday music playing low from the car speakers. And although the people walking on the sidewalk in front of their car give them weird looks, Harry can’t bring himself to care. It’s _Christmas,_ and he’s _pregnant_ , and they’re allowed to cry happily about it, okay.

After silently crying on his mom’s shoulder for a few minutes, Harry musters up the energy to sit back and wipe away the tears on both of their faces. They look like a proper mess, faces blotchy and eyes red, but luckily they still have time to make themselves look unsuspecting before arriving back home.

Anne starts gushing out questions and excited statements left a right while following Harry into the store and to the wine section. He tries to answer to the best of his ability, explaining that they decided to test once a month, just in case, until they both decided it wasn’t worth it anymore. Her eyes sparkle with so much warmth and happiness that make Harry feel way more excited about the situation than he initially had.

“You haven’t told Louis yet.” It’s not a statement.

Harry lets out a deep breath. “No, I haven’t. I found out right before he got home today and didn’t want to drop that bombshell right before dinner.”

“I understand,” Anne assures him, slipping Gemma’s requested bottle into the basket. “That’s something you both need time to process over and celebrate privately.”

Harry follows her around the aisle into the next one, helping grab Robin’s preferred brand while she searches for her own. “Yeah, but that’s too much to just keep to myself. Sorry for dropping it on you right before dinner as well. I _had_ to tell you though.”

“That’s alright sweetie. I’m glad you told me.” There’s amusement in her tone and eyes as she turns to him and adds, “I’ve been waiting for this moment since the first day you brought Louis to meet us.”

Harry can’t say that he’s surprised at that confession, because he really isn’t, should have expected it if he’s being honest. Anne has always wanted grandchildren, just as Harry has always wanted children.

“But don’t think you’re getting out of talking so easily,” Anne adds as an afterthought. Harry has been expecting this. “We will go out for lunch next time we’re both free and the day will be full of baby talk.”

Leading the way to the checkout lines, Harry quietly asks her for advice on how to finally tell Louis. He doesn’t know what to say, not really wanting to blurt it out quite as abruptly as he did with Anne. There’s also the matter of spending most of Louis’ birthday with his family, the plan not to leave until late in the night after a Christmas and birthday dinner that’s bound to last forever.

Anne is quiet for a few minutes after they check out and walk back to the car, face contemplative, then finally answering with, “Why don’t you make a whole surprise out of it? I’ve seen lots of videos on Facebook of people surprising their partners in cute ways. You could maybe do something like that on Christmas.”

That’s a good idea. Harry’s a bit upset with himself for not thinking of that yet, too caught up in the semantics of actually telling Louis. This way, he can let it be a surprise that Louis kind of has to figure out on his own, and he won’t have to actually say the words out loud.

Then a thought occurs to him. “Yeah, maybe. But we’ll be spending the whole day together tomorrow. I won’t have any time to go get anything or put something together last minute for him.”

“It doesn’t have to be anything complicated or extensive. Look, you’ll be gone all day tomorrow, right?”

“Mm-hmm,” Harry responds.

“Why don’t you just decide on something simple then. Text me if you need anything and I can go to the store for you tomorrow. I’ve still got the house key you gave me so I can slip in while you’re both gone. Louis won’t know a thing.”

Harry will forever be grateful for how intelligent and quick-thinking his mother is. She’s the best at giving him advice and brainstorming ideas, and her proposition is brilliant. He’s only got tonight to come up with ideas on how to surprise Louis, knowing that Anne will want to be out of any stores as soon as possible before they get too busy with last-minute holiday shopping.

If Louis notices that Harry is a little quieter during dinner due to overthinking all of his ideas, he doesn’t say anything, squeezing Harry’s leg under the table comfortingly every so often and offering the soft smile he reserves for only Harry when nobody is paying attention.

As the hours pass by Harry can feel himself grow more and more excited, impatient for Christmas morning to finally be here. They agreed to not go all out on gifts for each other this year for both Christmas and their birthdays, opting to set a price limit so they could budget for their trip better. Louis’ birthday present is a custom made wooden picture frame engraved with “Clifford & Dusty” that holds their favourite photo of the two babies cuddling.

Unbeknownst to Louis, Harry has been sneaking a single flower from every bouquet that Louis has given him over the years to the flower shop, drying and pressing them to keep them preserved. He’s been saving them solely because they are important to him, waiting for the perfect idea on what to do with them to strike. He finally decided to use them this year, using his breaks every day at work to piece them together in a scrapbook that he hopes Louis will like.

Initially, he felt kind of bad, not wanting to disappoint Louis with just a scrapbook for Christmas, and only after Perrie and Leigh-Anne both assured him that Louis would love it did he finally decide it was enough.

Now, though, Harry feels more confident than ever, knowing he’s going to be giving Louis the best present he could’ve asked for.

-

At 9 AM sharp, Harry is woken up by Louis shaking his shoulder gently, soft lips pressing feather-light kisses across his shoulder blades, making shivers run down his spine. Harry hums quietly, letting himself enjoy the sweet sensation for the few blissful moments it takes for his memories to come rushing back in, and -

Right. It’s Christmas morning, and Louis is currently feeling up Harry’s side under the covers. A little Christmas morning quickie never hurt anyone, but Harry has a feeling that there will be lots of crying and celebrating and sex-having today and he’d prefer to save his energy until then. As much as Harry loves the feeling of Louis’ fingers trailing up and down his side, the promise of more in his touch, he can’t let it go any further and reluctantly turns around in Louis’ arms to press a closed mouth kiss to his waiting lips.

“Gotta get up and start on breakfast.” His statement is punctuated with Louis’ tummy rumbling loudly, but Harry still catches the fleeting look of disappointment that crosses Louis’ face before he schools his expressions into something much more indifferent.

Harry loves him so much. “I love you.” He pairs the statement with another kiss before climbing out of bed, arms reaching into the air as he stretches out his limbs. Over his shoulder Harry catches Louis staring at him longingly from bed still, eyes glazed over and unwavering, and he chuckles to himself, making sure to sway his hips a bit more while walking into the closet.

Louis tries to muffle his groan into the pillow but Harry can still hear it, feeling himself smirk while he pulls on some sweats and a plain black athletic shirt. They won’t be going anywhere today, he figures, so he doesn’t care to dress up, knowing Louis won’t care either. He pulls his hair up into a tight bun as well, not caring to do anything with it again.

Just then Louis walks into the closet, buck naked save for one sock, hair a tousled mess, and Harry feels his mouth water at the sight. Louis’ sporting a semi and is pointedly not paying attention to Harry while he digs through the sock drawer. Harry lets himself take a moment to appreciate Louis’ backside. He’s got the most gorgeous legs, toned and smooth and so lickable, and his ass is to die for. Lord knows how many countless hours Harry’s spent worshipping it, no doubt many more to come in the future too.

He has to tear his eyes away and take a deep breath, forcing himself to focus so he can go start on breakfast, deciding on something simple since they’ll be making a full dinner plus dessert later on.

Their day at Louis’ family’s house was full of love and laughter. They were greeted by many hugs and lots of yelling, Louis being tackled to the ground as soon as they passed the threshold. The sight made Harry’s heart melt, as was usual whenever he witnessed Louis interacting with his younger siblings (or any kids for that matter), and he had to force himself not to get too emotional and tear up in front of everybody at the thought of Louis holding their newborn baby.

For the rest of the day, Harry couldn’t keep thoughts of them raising their child together and the many memories he’ll have of Louis being the best father ever. He imagined so many scenarios that made him giddy to the bone, often spacing off and being flamed constantly for it by the girls. Even Jay chimed in with a quick tease when Harry forgot he was stirring the frosting for Louis’ birthday cake. If Louis was concerned he didn’t say anything, which Harry was grateful for.

He just couldn’t help himself, was the thing. He’s been dreaming of having Louis’ babies since he first realized he was in love with him, nearly four years ago now, and he hasn’t let himself daydream about raising kids with Louis in a long time, it often makes him feel worse about the situation they were in.

 _Were_.

Not _are_. Harry grins to himself, heart full and beating a little quicker as he flips the second round of pancakes he’s got cooking on the stove. He’s always wanted kids, yeah, and he rests his free hand over his stomach, the motion already feeling comforting and relaxing. God, he can’t wait to start showing, to be able to hold his arms around his tummy and their baby.

True to her word, Anne had agreed to go to the store when Harry texted her that they’d finally left the house. Harry secretly sent a couple of photos of what he’d need while Louis was driving, quickly deleting them just in case Louis got a hold of his phone. Barely an hour after they left, a discreet text consisting of a simple ‘I love you’ and some heart emojis came from Anne’s end, signalling that she’d hidden the objects in the guest room closet as well for him.

The rest of the night was filled with lots of cake, singing happy birthday, and opening both birthday and Christmas presents, everybody squished into the living room as best as possible. When Louis opened Harry’s present, he hugged him for so long that both Phoebe and Daisy yelled at them for PDA and a couch pillow was thrown at them from the other side of the room, and then Louis said that no matter how late it was when they got home the photo was immediately being put up on the wall.

They managed to make it out of there before 10 PM, a feat considering Louis sisters tried to talk them into staying for the third Christmas movie in a row, and Harry had to physically pull Louis away from the couch, promising that they’d both take off work early and come over sometime within the next couple of weeks to finish the marathon.

Leaving the Tomlinson household is always a whole ordeal, too many hugs and goodbyes and quick, last-minute conversations being squeezed in, and Harry wouldn’t have it any other way. He cherishes those moments, glad that Louis’ family accepted him so easily and that he’s considered one of their own.

Both Harry and Louis were drained and spoke quietly on their way home, the atmosphere in the car making Harry realize he was more tired than he thought. Snow was blowing gently outside, the car heater on full blast, and instrumental Christmas tunes were playing softly in the background. Their bellies were full of delicious food and hearts full of warmth and happiness from the Christmas and birthday celebrations of the day.

It wasn’t an important part of the night, but Harry had let himself fully relax and bask in it all, knowing it would be one of the only moments of complete, normal calm before the exciting storm that lay ahead.

After arriving home and helping each other carry their assorted gifts and leftovers inside, Louis was tired enough that he had set the picture frame on the coffee table, promising to actually hang it first thing in the morning, and pulled Harry with him upstairs before he could complain.

Harry remembers the way Louis had pulled him in to be the big spoon, the way Louis snuggled back against his chest, the way Louis’ hair smelled like Harry’s soap.

The whole night Harry was in and out of sleep, tossing and turning, growing more anxious for the next day. He knew Louis was dead asleep by the time he decided to slink out of bed and sneak down to the guest bedroom as quietly as possible. The gift bag and contents were right where they should be, and Harry got to work, only letting himself cry a little as he got everything together and carefully placed the bag under the tree next to the other few gifts.

And he feels it now, knows there are bags under his eyes and can tell he’s acting a bit sluggish. But despite the lack of sleep and the smell of food cooking, he hasn’t felt any signs of sudden nausea. Last time he tried to make pancakes he ended up feeling too sick to eat any with Louis, but as he’s cutting up some strawberries to go with he actually feels hungry and excited to eat.

Anne had morning sickness with both of them, but it had been really bad with Gemma. She’s told him many stories of the different remedies and tricks she’d try to use to overcome it. Harry can only hope that he gets over it sooner rather than later, dreading the thought of having to work through many sick mornings.

It hits him hard then, knowing that for the rest of his life his every waking thought will be centred around their child. _Their child_. He feels his eyes well upright when he hears the back door open and close and then Louis’ steps coming down the hallway, accompanied with Clifford’s excited taps. He has to quickly rub his eyes and hope he can pass it off as allergies.

When Louis saunters into the kitchen, Harry has to stop what he’s doing and take a moment to stare. Clearly Louis is trying to kill him.

On any other morning he’d be dressed as comfortably as Harry is, yet he’s actually styled his hair today, it falling in a soft swoop, fringe almost falling in his eyes. His striped polo is one that he doesn’t wear too often, and Harry can’t imagine why. Louis has paired it with some black slacks that hug his thighs perfectly - Harry can’t tear his eyes away, wants to get his hands on those thighs and he looks absolutely breathtaking.

He’s smirking when Harry meets his eyes. It takes every ounce of control to not round the island and push Louis up against the wall right there. “Didn’t hear you come down,” Harry murmurs, trying to focus on his task at hand and not on Louis’ arse.

“Mm, we snuck down. Wanted to sneak up on you but Clifford needed to go outside urgently.” While Louis’ voice is even and doesn’t give anything away, his eyes still shine with clear amusement. He knows what he’s doing as he sidles up next to Harry and steals a slice of strawberry. Harry is entranced, watching Louis’ eyes get darker while he puts on a bit of a show.

Harry’s breath hitches, unable to tear his eyes away from the way Louis slips the strawberry past his pink lips, licking his fingers after like the tease he is.

“Yeah, pancakes,” Harry eventually chokes out, something stirring deep inside him that he forces himself to ignore. He _has_ to focus on finishing breakfast, too nervous and excited for what comes after to let himself give in to Louis’ taunts, so with his eyes on the plates he’s making he pointedly says, “Can you pour some orange juice for me please?”

Louis huffs, quiet enough that Harry probably wasn’t meant to hear it, but he turns towards the cabinets to get a couple of glasses down anyway.

Louis convinces Harry that they should eat in the living room so they can open presents right after, and Harry only agrees because he knows the longer he puts this off the more anxious he’ll be about it. Dusty perches on the window sill after Harry slides the curtains open, and Clifford eventually joins them halfway through eating, curling up on the floor in front of the fireplace.

With the Christmas tree lights and other decor lights all on and the fireplace flickering quietly, the soft ambience of the space settles over Harry and calms him enough that his heart isn’t racing anymore and he isn’t shaking. Louis doesn’t mention it, but Harry’s sure that he noticed and just didn’t say anything, bless him.

“Alright, alright.”

Louis’ outburst startles Harry, orange juice spilling over his chin, and they both chuckle as Harry wipes his face clean. Their plates sit empty on the coffee table. Harry’s heart starts racing again, and he can only smile as he watches Louis gather the few gifts from under the tree and bring them back to where they’re sitting.

Louis’ eyebrows furrow though, and he holds up the small gift bag, saying, “Harry I know for sure that you only had one gift for me yesterday morning. Where did this come from?”

Of course he would know, the sneak, always checking every moment that he can to see when Harry adds any new decorations or presents anywhere. Harry has always admired Louis for his love for Christmas.

“I snuck that under there yesterday. Last-minute, uh… Surprise that I wanted to add.” Harry tries to control his voice as much as he can, not wanting Louis to catch onto his nerves. In hopes of trying to distract Louis, he quickly adds on, “I wanna open mine first. You _always_ go first.”

Louis just stares at him for a moment, face contemplative, before breaking out in a grin and handing over the two small boxes. “Alright fine,” he says, pointing at the smaller of the boxes that looks suspiciously jewellery sized, “Open this one first.”

Harry does as told, holding eye contact with a slightly nervous-looking Louis and lifting the top part of the box. Louis bites his lip through a smile, and Harry finally looks down, seeing a dark blue ring box. “Lou - ”

“I know,” Louis cuts him off, “We agreed on a price limit. But I had already been saving up for months before we talked about it, I promise.” He sounds sincere, eyes soft and sparkling.

If he’d been saving up already then there’s no use in arguing, so Harry presses a quick kiss to Louis’ cheek before pulling out the ring box and opening it. Inside sits a simple black ring with the Aquarius symbol in the middle. There are two diamonds on either side and after Harry pulls it out of the box he sees that his name has been carved into the inside of the band. It’s simple but Harry loves it. He’s mentioned wanting to get a tattoo related to his zodiac sign before but has never followed through with actually getting one.

“Lou, I love it,” he says as sincerely as he can, leaning in to capture Louis’ lips in a kiss. Louis’ responding smile is bright, love swelling up so much inside of Harry that he feels like he might burst. The ring ends up fitting perfectly on his pointer finger and Harry can’t help himself as he snaps a photo of it, trying to ignore the way his eyes start to mist a little. He _will not_ cry over the ring. He simply won’t. “It’s gorgeous, thank you, love.”

“I’m glad you like it. It looked much bigger online and I was worried it would come out too gaudy or flashy. But your hands are massive. I should’ve known it would fit perfectly.” Louis chuckles.

Harry squeezes Louis’ knee, loving the weight of the new ring. It’s already his new favourite (besides his wedding ring of course).

The next box is wrapped neatly in some gold wrapping paper that Harry tries to carefully peel away. Harry pulls out two different matching lilac sweaters, the material so soft that Harry almost puts one on right then. The smaller of the two sweaters is oddly shaped, and Harry’s eyes snap to Dusty instantly.

Dusty is fast asleep on the top of the couch, not paying them any attention so Harry decides to let her rest.

“Thank you, Louis,” he says again, pulling Louis in for a hug.

“You’re welcome, baby. I got some in a different colour for me and Clifford as well,” Louis whispers back, arms tightening around Harry. He’s warm and smells wonderful, Harry feeling right at home in his arms. 

When he lets go, Harry hurries to grab the larger gift that’s wrapped and hands it to Louis. He can’t let Louis open the gift bag yet. The original gift will be useless after, he thinks, and Louis deserves to have time to process the news and not have to worry about any other gifts.

Louis tears back the wrapping paper and inside is the scrapbook. The cover is a custom printed star chart of the day they first kissed. It’s black with the constellation and words in white, the lines underneath saying _Last First Kiss_ with the date and coordinates printed underneath. It sounds a little cheesy now that Harry thinks about it.

It will be the last first kiss either of them have.

Louis’ smile is blinding, eyes sparkling, while he carefully flips through the book, slowly realizing what it is. Each page has a separate flower and the date they were given to Harry written underneath. Sprinkled in are little notes and corresponding photos as well. After Louis turns to the last page, a sweet, “Aww, Harold,” falls past his lips, smile unending.

He looks beautiful, illuminated by the Christmas tree lights and the faint light filtering through the window. The light dusting of hair on his face looks almost red-tinted in this light. Oh what Harry would do to feel that against his face.

But he’s too impatient to let himself get distracted with more kisses. “Do you remember that night?” Harry whispers, pressing his fingers to the cover of the book, lips spreading into a smile.

Rolling his eyes, Louis scoffs. “ _Of course_ I remember that night. It was our third date and we decided to go to that bar with Niall and Zayn. Double date, and all that.” Louis shakes his head, staring down at the photo in his lap. Harry can’t look away. “I was so nervous all day but Zayn convinced me that you’d already twerked on me, there was no way you didn’t wanna kiss me back.”

“I did. I wanted to kiss you on the first date Lou,” Harry admits, heart warm with the memories of that night back to mind. He chuckles. “You kissed me and I swear I almost fainted on the dance floor. I was all sweaty from dancing and didn’t think you’d ever wanna kiss me.”

“That dancing was hot as fuck. I couldn’t keep my hands off you if I tried babe.” Louis’ eyes are a bit darker than before but he looks smug as his hand creeps over to Harry’s thigh and squeezes. The athletic shorts he’s wearing are soft and thin enough that Harry has to cross his legs, not wanting the way Louis’ words affect him to show. “And then we got plastered after and spent our first hangover together.”

Harry smiles at that. They cuddled pretty much the whole morning and Harry didn’t leave Louis’ place until late afternoon. It’s one of his favourite memories despite the way the night ended. He feels like he was already half in love by then.

“Seriously Haz, this is wonderful. Thank you.”

Harry’s hands are clammy, his new ring sticking to his skin, and his stomach is full of butterflies, and Louis raises an eyebrow at him after he doesn’t respond. He’s too impatient and too eager now, rushing out, “You’re welcome, babe. But.” With shaky hands, Harry places the scrapbook carefully on the coffee table and replaces the small gift bag in Louis’ hands. “Here.”

This is it. _This is it_.

For two days this is the moment Harry’s been eagerly waiting for.

Unconsciously he starts biting at his nails, and he starts to feel the slightest bit nauseous as Louis’ begins to pick out the tissue paper to pull out the two items inside.

Louis is the most amazing person and partner Harry could’ve asked for. He’s absolutely amazing with his siblings and would do anything for them, and any time a friend or relative or work friend of theirs has had a baby, Louis is front and centre with spoiling and offering to babysit and just generally wanting to be around the child. It’s one of his many amazing qualities that Harry is forever grateful for.

But despite Harry knowing Louis will be an amazing parent and will be ecstatic at the news, he’s still anxious as ever while watching Louis’ puzzled eyes looking at the items in his hands.

One is a small Christmas stocking the size of Louis' hand. It’s both red and white, an even mix of both of their own stockings hanging over the fireplace, and Louis looks more confused as he stares down at it. The other item is a slim, rectangular white box with a shiny red bow on it.

Harry manages some deep breaths but his arms stay crossed and his leg is bouncing nervously, lip caught between his teeth.

“Did you finally decide to start putting up stockings for the animals?” Louis asks quizzically, chancing a glance at Harry.

Before Harry can answer, Louis lays the stocking down in his lap and pulls off the lid of the box. Inside lay the two pregnancy tests, both with double lines indicating positive results. Harry feels his eyes well up and he’s overcome with emotion, hand covering his mouth to keep himself from word-vomiting.

Louis’ face goes through a mix of emotions, confusion written all over it for the longest time as he looks back and forth between the tests and the stocking. His mouth slowly falls open and his eyes grow wide, a gentle, “Harry,” slipping out. Harry feels a tear drip down his cheek and he’s smiling now, sniffling as Louis’ eyes also start to water.

“Harry,” Louis repeats, eyes now locked with his, “Are you serious? Like these are real? This isn’t a prank?”

Harry’s already shaking his head no before Louis finishes the last question, hiccuping through his smile. “No. I promise Lou, those are real. I uh - ” Harry cuts off just as Louis flings himself at him, his arms wrapping around Harry so fast, their bodies pressed together.

Louis’ shoulders are shaking, little sniffles and mumbled words pressed to Harry’s neck, and Harry holds him close through his crying, letting his own tears fall freely now. Harry feels on top of the world right now with Louis.

He’s pregnant. Harry’s pregnant and they’re having a baby. Holy fuck.

Now that Louis knows, Harry feels so much lighter and happier. He cannot wait to raise this child with Louis.

“I can’t believe - I mean. Fuck, I didn’t think those tests would ever come back positive.” Louis says between sniffles, still crying a little. He pulls away, crinkles by his eyes deep from the wide smile he’s sporting. His eyes are glassy with tears and he looks as happy as he did on their wedding day, which causes a fresh round of tears to well up in Harry’s eyes.

“I know, I know. I cried so much when I saw them,” Harry admits. His heart feels like it might combust right in his chest. They’re both so elated. It’s such a precious, loving moment that they’ll remember forever. They’ve been wanting this for so long now, and they _finally_ get to raise a child together.

“ _God_ .” Louis’ hand travels down and hovers just over Harry’s tummy. Harry chuckles, pressing his hand over Louis’ against his stomach. They stay like that for a moment, both still crying and laughing, Louis eventually whispering, “We’re gonna raise a child together. A real baby. _Shit_.”

Harry chuckles through his silent crying. “I know. I can’t wait to hold them already. I hope they have your eyes, Lou.”

“And your curls.” Louis’ eyes, beautiful as ever, widen comically, his hand still pressed to Harry’s stomach as he starts to panic a little, “Fuck, we’ll have to cancel the trip. And start planning the nursery. And Gemma is going kill us if we keep this from her - ”

“Lou.” Harry cuts him off, sliding his hand up to cradle Louis’ cheek. They lock eyes, faces inches apart. Harry gently thumbs away some tears under Louis’ eyes, and he feels Louis slowly relax into him, the panic fading away from his eyes. His other hand rests over the nape of Harry’s neck, and Harry whispers, “We can worry about stuff later. Let’s just celebrate.”

Louis nods, pressing forward to steal a kiss from Harry. Harry melts into Louis’ touch, and the kiss is sweet and meaningful, comforting in the most amazing ways for both of them.

Louis’ hand resting on his tummy just reminds him that one day, he’ll actually be showing, will have a baby bump to hold and rub and talk and sing to and hold. And Louis will be right there all along the way, helping Harry take progress photos of his bump because Harry’s cheesy like that, encouraging Harry’s even weirder cravings, and offering the best messages anyone could ask for.

The scenarios flood through Harry’s mind a million miles a second, and he can’t wait. He can’t wait to experience it all with Louis. Sure, he’ll probably have to deal with morning sickness so much that he may regret his decision a few times, and he’ll have to endure every mood swing, and just the thought of giving birth makes him queasy. 

But. They’re ready for it. Harry is ready to bring their baby into the world and Louis is ready to be there for him every step of the way.

“I love you,” Harry mumbles into the kiss, so elated and on cloud nine.

“I love you too.” Louis kisses Harry once more, a lingering swipe of lips that has Harry’s lips tingling long after they pull apart. Then Louis scoots off the couch onto his knees on the floor and tells Harry, “Lay back.”

Harry lifts his shirt off before following his instructions. Louis leans over him just enough to rest his lips softly on Harry’s stomach, hand still rubbing over the rest of the expanse, fingers lingering over love handles and pressing into the sensitive bit of flesh above his waistband, before whispering, “Hi there darling.” His voice is so soft and gentle, Harry’s stomach does flips from how sweet the moment is. “I know you can’t hear me yet, but I love you so much. Me and your dad are gonna take such good care of you. We can’t wait to meet you.”

Harry feels his eyes well up again. _How_ many times are they going to cry today? He lets his fingers run gently through Louis’ hair, scratching at his scalp and neck like Louis loves, as Louis continues to whisper sweetly at his tummy. Harry chimes in through his hiccups and sniffles, whispering, “Love you so much sweetpea,” and, “You better have Louis’ eyes.”

He’s just so happy. They’re finally getting what they’ve been wanting, can finally start on the next chapter of their lives. Yeah, it’ll be challenging, but that’s just life, and they’ve got each other. They’re so ready to make an addition to their family, thoughts of what’s yet to come hanging over them. Harry wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.

It’s an actual Christmas miracle, really.

(Harry giggles at the thought, which prompts Louis into tickling him until he’s gasping through his laughs and confessing. Louis’ response is the softest giggle and brightest smile).

They stay like that for a long time, Louis pressing kisses to Harry’s exposed skin, both of them whispering promises to each other and Harry’s tummy. Harry keeps his fingers threaded in Louis’ hair, and he feels so content to lay like this for a while and bask in the news together.

After a little while, Louis crawls up off the floor to straddle Harry’s knees, face level with his tummy still. Harry holds him close, not paying attention to how much time passes as they share this moment for as long as possible.

Eventually, Louis crawls up to loom over Harry, saying, “I love you so fucking much, Harry.” He looks absolutely gorgeous, so happy in the way that he’s smiling, face red and blotchy from all the laughing and crying. The hand not holding himself up rests on Harry’s cheek, thumb soft over his skin. “I fucking love you. _God_ , we’re gonna make such good parents,” Louis says so earnestly. Harry is still half crying. “There’s gonna be a little _us_ running around.”

“I know, Lou. _Fuck_ , I know. The rest of our lives will be all about our tiny human.” Their smiles are matching, both so incredibly high on endorphins and the Christmas atmosphere.

Louis, with a suddenly mischievous smile, drops a kiss to Harry’s forehead. “Yes, _our_ human.” He drops another kiss to Harry’s left cheek. “The one I put in you.” Now the other cheek. “I don’t think you understand.” Another kiss this time pressed to his nose. “We’re having a baby, Harold.” Louis finally kisses Harry properly but Harry can’t contain his giggles enough to properly kiss back.

“I _do_ understand. _A human is growing inside of me_ \- ” Louis cuts Harry off with another peck.

Harry’s eyes finally lock with Louis’ again. They’re so open and honest, and Harry can’t let himself look away. They’re both finally quiet, and both seem to register the minimal space between their bodies at the same time before Louis whispers, “I love you,” against his lips.

“I love you too.” Harry feels his face and neck heat up, all the explicit thoughts from throughout the morning rushing back into his brain. They’re pressed together from chest to hip, and he can’t help himself as his train of thought starts to wander back to those naughty things.

“Harry,” Louis whispers. Their faces are an inch apart, Harry feeling Louis’ warm breath fan over his face and neck, and Harry’s stomach does somersaults at the way Louis is hungrily looking at him.

“Fuck,” slips past his lips so quietly he almost isn’t sure Louis hears it, but Louis instantly tilts his chin up and they’re kissing again, this time it’s much more heated and with purpose. Louis leads the kiss, keeping it slow and steady, but he kisses so deeply that Harry’s head spins and he feels himself start to grow hard just from this.

He can’t help it. They’re experiencing an absolutely amazing Christmas together, he’s felt so happy and alive all day, and with Louis’ tongue dancing against his own, Harry lets himself succumb to the sensations.

Between heavy breathing and the intense kissing, Harry can’t tell what’s up and down anymore, can only focus on his hands on Louis’ body, grounding himself through the onslaught of feelings that he’s been staving off all day. His fingers press against Louis’ back, not letting Louis shift away, slowly trailing down to slide over that glorious ass.

Harry’s been in love with Louis’ ass since they first met all those years ago. No matter what he wears, and _every_ time he’s not wearing anything it just looks and feels so amazing that Harry can’t help himself. He’s fully hard by the time he gets his hands over both cheeks, under Louis’ pants but over his underwear. He massages and caresses to his heart's desire, wanting so badly to let his fingers sneak under the fabric and over his hole.

But Louis startles those thoughts from Harry’s mind as he pulls away with a loud, wet sound. They’re both panting, Harry slowly opening his eyes, vision settling on his husband’s dishevelled form looming over him. He doesn’t pull his hands away though, simply resting them where they are.

“Fuck,” Louis says gravelly, the noise coming deep from his chest and sending another wave of heat through Harry’s body. Louis is so sexy, Harry can’t process it properly sometimes.

And even though it wasn’t a question, Harry still answers, “Please, yeah.”

Louis surges forward again, pressing Harry even deeper into the couch with his hips, and he’s hard too, cock pressing against Harry’s through layers of fabric. Harry moans against Louis’ lips, hips bucking up for more pressure, to feel that electric jolt of pleasure again, but Louis’ hand pressing firmly on his side stops him.

“Fuck,” Harry whispers.

“Getting there, love,” Louis whispers back, rocking down again. Louis’ breath hitches and Harry suddenly can’t focus on his own pleasure anymore, using the leverage of his hands on Louis’ ass to rock up against him, basking in the sounds Louis makes. He just sounds so fucking sexy, breath getting caught in his throat, lungs heaving, the occasional, “Harry,” or, “Oh _fuck_ ,” sprinkled between the silent moans.

They stay rutting against each other like that for a few long moments, and though it may feel like they’re back in Harry’s dorm room on their fourth date, taking advantage of Harry’s roommate being in class, Harry already feels close. Louis just gets him so riled up, just listening to him has Harry weak.

But, Harry should’ve known Louis wouldn’t let it continue, the tease. After a particularly dirty grind that leaves Harry gasping for air, Louis peels Harry’s hands off his backside and sits back. Harry can do nothing but watch with bated breath as Louis puts on a show with taking his shirt off, revealing inch by inch of glorious skin that Harry just wants to touch and kiss all over.

Louis’ hair is even messier after he throws the shirt on the ground. He looks like an angel, an angel sent just for Harry. Harry’s mouth waters as eyes linger over Louis’ crotch and thighs, the pants leaving nothing to the imagination.

“Not gonna come in our pants like teenagers, Harry,” Louis eventually says. His voice is stern but he’s beaming, so beautiful Harry could cry. Louis’ fingers crawl up Harry's abdomen and catch on Harry’s nipples, pinching and rolling them until they’re dark and puffy, and Harry is panting, squirming under Louis’ thighs holding him down.

His nipples have always been so sensitive, and fuck. He can only imagine how much more sensitive they’ll grow with pregnancy. They must think it at the same time because as soon as the thought of his tits growing big enough to comfortably hold, Louis’ mouth latches onto a nipple and he licks and sucks until Harry is letting out a constant string of moans.

He can’t wait for the day Louis’ beautiful hands can just hold his tits, squeeze and massage them as much as he does to his nipples. Harry’s throbbing in his shorts as Louis switches to the other nipple, too many thoughts muddling his brain, and he bucks up against Louis again.

At the motion, Louis sits back again, completely removing himself until they’re only connected by Louis’ legs bracketing Harry’s thighs. His eyes look as blown out as Harry’s feel, lips slightly swollen and shiny, and Harry lets out a shaky breath, trying to bring himself back from the edge just a bit.

“Not gonna fuck you on the couch baby,” Louis says, breaking Harry’s heart just a little. His fingers skim over Harry’s lips, down his neck, over his stinging nipples, down his contracting abs. He looks entranced as his fingers stop right at the waistband of Harry’s shorts, tucking under the elastic to pull back and let it snap against Harry’s skin.

Before Harry can protest, Louis adds, “We deserve a whole bed for what I have planned, baby,” and Harry gasps at the words, thinking of all the things Louis’ could be planning for them. “But - ” Louis leans over enough to let his breath fan over Harry’s face, keeping their bodies apart, and whispering, “Why don’t you come sit in my lap and let me take care of you first.”

Harry is nodding before Louis’ finished talking, pushing Louis up to try and get him into motion. He’s impatient, wants to be sitting on those glorious thighs _yesterday_. His brain feels a little fuzzy from all the back and forth pleasure, but he still tries to look sexy while he’s standing in front of Louis and undressing down to his socks.

“You too,” Harry says. He watches, mesmerized, while Louis’ thumbs hook over the slacks to unzip them and push them, along with his briefs, down his thighs and onto the floor. Louis’ thighs are so toned and his cock curves beautifully, and Harry’s mouth waters at the sight, drinking Louis in from head to toe.

Louis’ only smiles wider when Harry trips over himself a little. He catches himself though, climbing smoothly as he can into Louis’ lap, arms draped over his shoulders and naked thighs pressed over each other.

“So beautiful baby,” Louis reassures him, his hands dropping down to Harry’s hips, holding him steady. They’re close enough to kiss again, and Harry takes the opportunity to distract with his lips, shifting subtly closer until their hips come together. Louis breaks from the kiss with a moan, whispering, “Fuck,” hotly against Harry’s cheek.

And even though Louis usually takes charge, Harry is proud that he can still distract Louis, still has so much effect over him.

It’s messy, but their cocks slide together in the sexiest way, Harry bucking against him again to feel the hot pleasure of skin on skin. Louis tightens his hold on Harry’s thighs, fingers digging deliciously into Harry delicate skin, before sliding around and over Harry’s cheeks. Harry gasps, dropping his head over Louis’ shoulder and letting Louis take control.

“I got you,” Louis whispers, lips and tongue dancing over Harry’s neck. Harry leans his head to give him more access, lost in the feeling of Louis biting and licking and sucking his skin. He almost doesn’t notice the way Louis’ fingers sneak between his cheeks, brushing ever so lightly over the smooth skin, but he does, and he lets out an obnoxious moan when Louis presses their hips together again.

He can’t wait for Louis to fill him up.

It’s dry and almost too much, the way their cocks are pressed together, but Harry wouldn’t have it any other way, could lay here forever and let Louis have his way with him. He’s so caught up in the moment that it comes as a shock to him when he feels one of Louis’ hands, now wet with saliva, slipping between them to wrap around Harry’s cock.

“ _Fuck_ , fuck.” Harry’ body jolts with pleasure, and he rocks into Louis’ tight grip, unable to keep his moans and words at bay. “I love y- _oh_ , fuck, _ah_.”

“Love you too baby,” Louis whispers right next to his ear.

Harry is surprised again when Louis presses their cocks together and starts jacking them both off. He can’t still his own hips, rocking against Louis, feeling the edge start to build back up again. Louis keeps saying the dirtiest, most delicious things to him, like, “Gonna fuck you so good, won’t be able to stand. So fucking hot for me baby, fuck. Gonna feel so tight around me.”

Louis is babbling, and at this point, Harry is too, as they both rock together, closer and closer to the edge. Harry feels euphoric, trying to push back against Louis’ feather-light teasing touches over his hole, and then forward into Louis’ hand, chasing down his orgasm with their moans filling the room. He’s so close already.

“ _Oh_ , Lou,” Harry cries, rocking harder, feeling the edge hurtling so close he’s delirious with it. “Gonna - _fuck_ \- gonna come, _I_ \- ”

Louis grips tighter, thrusting up to add to the sensations, his own beautiful, breathy moan sounding like music to Harry’s ears. His lips catch Harry’s in another deep kiss before he pulls back to whisper, “Come for me, baby.”

And Harry loses it, crying out and gripping the back of the couch, as the ball of burning heat explodes through him, wave after wave of pleasure rocking through his body, ropes of come shooting up over both their chests. Louis works him through it, letting go when he knows Harry is feeling too much with the aftershocks, and stripping himself over and over until his body grows taught and his own come mixes with Harry’s.

Harry’s still whimpering by the time he feels himself fully come down, panting into Louis’ neck. Louis’ hands are softly rubbing up and down Harry’s back, soothing and comforting, and Harry feels himself fully relax against his husband, body loose and pliant.

They catch their breath together for a little while longer before Harry eventually lifts his face from Louis’ neck. Louis looks blissed out, but he’s smirking, and Harry can’t ignore that, a promise for what’s still to come.

Harry hopes - _knows_ it’ll be as wonderful as he’s imagining. He smiles, rubbing his fingers through Louis’ long hair, pulling him in for a quick kiss. “Hell of a mess to clean up,” he says after pulling away.

Out of nowhere, Louis is already holding Harry’s shirt from earlier, a smirk growing on his face as he presses it to Harry’s chest. “Good thing we came prepared.”

Harry shakes his head, but he smiles nonetheless.

And, fuck. He still can’t completely wrap his head around everything. He’s carrying their child, and they’re married, and they’re having amazing sex, and Harry doesn’t know if his life could get any better.

“It can,” Louis says, licking Harry's lip playfully, as though Harry had said that out loud. Oops. And then, because his life goal is to kill Harry, he whispers, “Let me show you how good it can be.”

Harry is quick to wipe them clean and drag Louis to bed.

-

**August**

Harry has always disliked hospitals. Ever since he fractured his wrist in a bike accident when he was eight, having to basically stay overnight in the emergency room since it was already late in the evening and they were short-staffed, Harry has tried his best to stay away from them when possible. Even when he caught a bad case of the flu that turned into pneumonia a couple of years back, Harry would only let Louis set up an appointment with his doctor and had to wait a week to be seen, despite Louis’ protests.

He’s never been able to give a solid reason as to why he dislikes the place so much, but being stuck in a giant building with so many people that he doesn’t know, in bland rooms with horrible food and bad cell service, just sounds terrible.

And yet. He’s spent two solid days in this same lumpy hospital bed, surrounded by four bland walls, and begging Anne or Gemma to sneak in something from Trader Joe’s so he doesn’t have to eat cafeteria food. All without complaint.

How is he supposed to complain when his only focus is right in his arms.

Quinn Olivia Tomlinson-Styles (or Q.T. for short, as Harry has been trying to talk Louis into accepting as her nickname) was born just yesterday afternoon, and not a moment has passed where she isn’t at the forefront of Harry’s mind. Even when the nurses take her away for testing or to let Harry have a few hours to nap, he still can’t focus on anything for longer than a few minutes before thoughts of Quinn start rolling back in.

He’s beyond exhausted, visiting hours having just ended. They said their goodbyes to Zayn, Niall, and Liam just a few minutes ago, and Harry is glad to have the room back to mostly empty and quiet. Anne is typing away furiously on her phone by the window, Gemma having left earlier that day, and Louis is sitting in His chair, the one kept right next to the bed, also looking pretty exhausted.

Quinn is sleeping silently against his chest, and Harry takes yet another moment to admire her. She barely has any hair, and her eyes are the softest blue. The nurses say that they could still change within the next couple of months, but Harry is hoping she keeps Louis’ eyes. Harry absolutely adores her with his entire being, and he knows Louis feels the same way. He’s almost convinced that Louis has held her more than Harry at this point.

Harry is counting down the minutes until their release, wanting more than anything to be in the comfort and privacy of his own home, to get Quinn settled in the new nursery, and to finally take the fattest nap in his own bed.

The past nine months have been better than Harry would have imagined. Sure, he had to fight through morning sickness, and then horrible cramping and swelling and soreness after, but every step of the way Louis’ been right by his side, more supportive than ever. He took every mood swing, every gross craving, and all other hurdles with pride, and Harry knew without a doubt that Louis would be the best parent ever.

Eventually, Anne leaves as well, promising to be back in the morning to help them pack up and make the journey back home.

After a little while, Louis puts his phone away and comes to sit on the edge of the bed next to Harry’s legs. He looks as tired as Harry feels, yet he’s still smiling the softest, fondest smile Harry’s ever seen, and Harry feels himself fall in love all over again as Louis carefully takes Quinn out of Harry’s hold to rock her some more.

“How’re you feeling?” Louis whispers, making sure not to wake Quinn. He hasn’t stopped asking this exact question, meeting Harry’s every need.

“Ready to be home,” Harry responds. He smiles though, feeling so grateful and appreciative for how amazing Louis has been, and adds, “But ‘m okay, thank you, babe.”

Harry decides to take advantage of the free time to waddle into the connected bathroom and wash his face and hands, wanting to feel a little more alive and human. Just a couple weeks ago Harry decided he wanted to cut off his lengthy curls, not wanting to have to deal with putting it up every day to keep it out of reach of grabby little fingers. The short curls is a look Harry didn’t think he’d like going back to, and while he still misses his long hair, he doesn’t regret changing it up.

As he carefully makes his way back into the room, his legs sore and weak from not using them much the past few days, he’s met with a sight so beautiful that he instantly starts tearing up and can’t hold back a smile.

The lights are off but the curtains are open, the room lit just by the moon alone, and soft lullabies are playing from somewhere in the room. And there, standing in the middle is Louis slowly rocking Quinn in his arms. He’s faintly singing along down to her, and Harry’s breathing turns a little shaky at the sight.

He could sit here forever and watch Louis sing to their baby.

Harry’s heart feels full as he watches the sight before him, and he feels his tears finally leak over. He’s just so thankful to have Louis in his life and be able to raise a child with him. From the very beginning of their relationship, Harry’s been dreaming of this very moment, dreaming of expanding their family with Louis and giving them the best life they can.

Louis looks so happy too, gently swaying back and forth, eyes shining and locked on Quinn as he sings softly. She’s swaddled in the blanket Lottie made for her, and Harry gives it another silent moment before stepping into Louis’ space to wrap his arms around him from the back.

His legs are still sore and he knows Louis will make him lay back down soon, but they both stay like that for a moment, Harry’s chin hooked over Louis’ shoulder, both watching Quinn sleep.

“I love you,” Harry whispers with a gentle kiss to Louis’ cheek.

“Me or Quinn?”

Harry huffs, but he sees Louis’ smile and presses another fleeting kiss to Louis’ scruff, reaching up to smooth a gentle finger over Quinn’s soft cheek.

“ _Both_ of you, obviously.”

  
\- _fin_ -

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! <3
> 
> [Tumblr](https://harrystinysantashorts.tumblr.com/) | [Fic Post](https://harrystinysantashorts.tumblr.com/post/637718315951931392/coming-soon-fine-lines-by-lsforever) | [Fest Tumblr](https://1dchristmasfest.tumblr.com/)


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